Wings To Fly
by NGTM-R
Summary: The Year is After Colony 198, and in a perfect society, there would be no need for soldiers. But nobody believes the world is perfect, and as humanity pushes beyond Mars it's getting less so. The unquiet dead of the Eve Wars are not merely ghosts. Some of them are painfully physical.
1. Preflight

Parts of other works beyond the animated canon are in play (for example, portions of Frozen Teardrop and even the truly obscure Tiel's Impulse have been appropriated), but only parts. This is because when this story was drafted, Frozen Teardrop and its ilk did not exist. (I wrote the first version of this story over a decade ago.) What elements have been added are those it was possible to add without disrupting the original story a great deal.

**Preflight**

"It's never really over." Une said softly.

The problem with the Eve Wars was that the White Fang, World Nation, and any bystanders with enough brain cells to rub together had armed themselves to the teeth. There had been literally tens of thousands of mobile suits in circulation, and the Eve Wars had accounted for perhaps a two thousand of a theoretical thirty thousand. With the dissolution of all sides, they had become the property of whoever happened to be housing or piloting them at that moment. The efforts to clean them up had never been entirely successful, even when the Preventers got enough of a budget after the Mariemaia Crisis.

One thousand five hundred mobile suits in service with various colonial and local defense forces from Jupiter to the new Venus orbital colony. Just under five hundred in service with the Preventers, with an authorized expansion to six-fifty underway. And six thousand seven hundred twenty-eight still unaccounted for.

If Mariemaia had taught the world anything, it was that the definition of government as "the entity with the monopoly on the use of lethal force" was still a valid one. And the next time there would be no Gundams to save them. "What fools we were. So full of hope, so eager to ignore the truths of our pasts. The war never really ends." Une was looking out the window of her office at the nighttime Brussels skyline.

Her visitor offered a tired chuckle. "Trieze would have your hide for that." Lucrezia Noin had only started referring to Trieze Kushrenada by his first name after he was dead. It was a habit picked up from her on-again, off-again boyfriend, but even then having Trieze be dead was the only way it could ever _not_ be awkward to refer to the boss of all her bosses by first name. That, and the man was owed some respect after all. He'd taken a bullet for her when they were younger.

"Trieze Kushrenada was an idealistic fool who left the rest of us to clean up his messes." Une was bitterly amused. "He selfishly quit because he was tired, charging others to complete his work. People think I'm doing this for him. I was, at some point, but by now I'm doing it because I'm good at it and because somebody has to. Trieze can go straight to hell." Une turned back. "But that's why you've come back too, isn't it? You're good at it."

Noin sighed. "Yeah. I am." Not exactly true.

"Well, that means I can cancel your surveillance detail." Une smiled tiredly at the expression that comment got. "We keep tabs on certain people who are sufficiently skilled that 'someone builds them a Gundam and they try to take over the world' is considered realistic." She turned to the computer. "We're building, or rather rebuilding, Space Mobile Suit Squadron Twenty-Two at New Edwards. Lightning fought for the Alliance and made a name for itself as both skilled and principled, and we had two original members on the roster. We're expanding and the unit insignia is one people will be glad to see come back. I need a squadron leader."

"I'm in."

* * *

"Commander." The woman who met Noin at the base of the ladder down her MS gantry was about her own height, brown hair pulled back in a very short ponytail. She wore the gray outfit that seemed to be the new Preventer duty uniform, which actually reminded Noin of Alliance uniform shorn of the usual scrollwork and tracery. "Welcome to New Edwards, again. Do you need help with the bag?" The uniform also seemed to fit her oddly well.

Noin grimaced a little. Her duffel was lighter than it looked, considering her uniform issue was actually _here_ waiting for her rather than in the duffel. "No. It looked messy on the way in."

"Nobody ever cleaned up after...well, you know." The first location on Earth to get hit by all five Gundams was in appropriately bad shape. It had also been heavily fought over during Operation Daybreak as well. The woman's nametag read _Forsythe, L._ "We're cleaning it up while we're here. Fine motor control practice, and we get called in for every major disaster so the practice is good."

There were six other Taurus suits in the MS bay she'd been directed to. Four were painted in the grey with white trim the Preventers had adopted. One was painted black with midnight blue trim, and one was a flat all-gray. There were subtle differences in the shape and angling of the armor, slight variations in the size and placement of thrusters, that told Noin these were not standard Taurus suits; the Preventers used a modified version. The addition of shackle points on the chest, which would be under the suit in fighter mode...well, she'd often talked about Taurus external ordnance projects back in her days as a test pilot and instructor for the Specials and OZ, but somebody had finally gone through with it.

The other thing she noted was that in addition to the nametag on each suit's entry hatch, there was an insignia. Sometimes more than one. One of the Preventer ones had OZ Colonial Militia insignia. The black and blue Taurus had a simple gold "G" on it. She saw World Nation, White Fang, and various Alliance branches represented as well. A little reminder how diverse the Preventers actually were in practice.

"Where is everyone?" Noin asked.

"Two Section and Three Section are in the simulators. Lieutenant Dyer is probably supervising. And I'm here, of course." Forsythe replied. "We don't have much of squadron yet, and Dyer thinks some of them need to unlearn bad habits."

She hadn't looked at her, and it was weird to think of the squadron as _hers_, squadron's personnel records yet. Hadn't had the time. Noin mentally sighed. "Like what?"

"Reliance on Gundanium plate, I think." Forsythe replied.

Noin grimaced again. She had a Gundam pilot in the squadron. She wasn't surprised that Une hadn't told her this. She hadn't seen eye to eye with several of them. Heero Yuy gave pretty much everyone who met him the creeps with the flattened affect sociopath thing, though he didn't actually give the impression he was plotting to kill everyone he met; Yuy simply seemed like an alien wearing a human suit. Wufei Chang was a sexist with a superiority complex who worked out his anger issues by hitting things with giant robot fists. Maxwell...actually, the blue and black paint-schemed Taurus looked like something he'd do, and she could get along with Duo Maxwell. She could probably get along with Trowa Barton as well, though he'd always seemed weirdly reticent. Winner though, was fully consumed in his dead father's businesses and wouldn't be here.

The simulator area was actually adjacent to the MS hanger, only about ten meters down the hall. Opposite that was the squadron's eating and rec area; beyond it were individual doors for pilot quarters. It was a sharp contrast to the way the Victoria Space Combat Academy had been laid out, with quarters literally on the opposite side of the base from the MS hangers. _This was a combat posting, of course_. Victoria had been a training base, trainees separated from the mobile suits so nobody did something terminally stupid. New Edwards had been laid out with pilots kept close to their suits in case of a scramble order.

Noin poked her head into the simulator room. The man there at the control desk wore the same uniform that Forsythe did, a very dirty blond with green eyes. He noted her and nodded, but sitting at the control station didn't get up. "Commander." It was _weird _to be addressed by a naval rank. Noin kept thinking she should look around for the person being spoken to. She would have to adapt; the Preventer space service was naval now.

"Back in a moment." Noin replied, and proceeded down the hall. Somebody had already put a nametag on her door. _Surreal._ She'd only rejoined the service ten hours ago, six of which had been sleep, four of them in the air. In that time her uniforms had been created, her unit had been informed of her arrival and gotten a room in order for her, and it had all unfolded with perfect smoothness. OZ would have taken much longer. The military in her life kept getting smaller and more streamlined.

_I wonder if I would have felt this out of place if I'd taken the Mars Colonial Militia offer._ Her room was neat; the were seven uniforms in the closet, one on the bed. Forsythe excused herself to her own room briefly while Noin changed. The feeling of displacement grew; the Preventers had her measurements on file, from her last tour of duty, and the uniform was custom-tailored for her. She actually felt a little self-conscious considering how well it fit. _This is a uniform, right?_

The mirror insisted that yes, it was in fact the uniform Forsythe had been wearing. Rank insignia and a Mariemaia Coup campaign ribbon already attached. Noin straightened it again out of nervousness, and feeling still out of place, stepped out of her new quarters.

They wanted her to be an officer. She knew how to do that. Start with smothering that nervousness.

"How long have you all been here?" she asked Forsythe.

"A few weeks for me and Lieutenant Dyer. Maxwell and Schbeiker were here about the same time." Hilde Schbeiker; Duo's...sidekick seemed unkind, especially since she'd arguably won the Eve Wars with her little mad infiltration mission on _Libra_. Brave, but perhaps not smart about it. On the other hand she'd actually survived, and everyone loved a lucky pilot.

Forsythe's own career was apparently nothing to sniff at either, as Noin recognized several Alliance campaign of the ribbons above Forsythe's breast pocket; Operation Daybreak survivor, Alliance Space Forces Star with combat V. Come to think of it, Dyer had both those as well. _That could be awkward, considering._

"Commander," he acknowledged her again as she entered the sim. "Running them through Operation Praying Mantis at the moment." There was a pause and he keyed his headset mic. "Maxwell, you're dead."

"Did anyone ever _really_ try this?" Duo Maxwell's voice. "I mean, getting close enough to an MS to do this isn't very smart."

Operation Praying Mantis had the name of the Alliance operation against what been the only real attempted colony drop in history before _Libra_, in AC 189. If Noin remembered her tactics studies, the Leos that went in had been attacked in rather unconventional ways, everything from pit traps to man-portable missile launchers aimed at suspected vulnerable points to infantry who tried to swarm on them and stuff satchel charges in the leg and foot armor.

"Cost me an ankle actuator." Dyer replied, with a hint of amusement.

Duo's simulator module opened and he looked incredulously at the ex-Alliance lieutenant. "What happened to them?"

"I presume they're all dead, since I stomped on them with the suit's good leg." Dyer replied, with more than a little dark humor. Was he really that old? Noin couldn't tell. Or maybe he'd lied about his age to join up. That had been a pretty common thing for a few years. She'd done it too.

"That's cold, man." Duo looked over to Noin and drew himself up, saluting. A little sloppy, but not terrible. He was wearing a uniform cap backwards at an angle that might have been called jaunty if you were a civilian, but which suggested more of a drunken list to military eyes. "Commander! It's been awhile."

"At ease." Noin gave the command automatically. She wasn't wearing a cover, so she didn't return the salute. _You can take the pilot out of the Gundam, but you can't make him THAT presentable I guess._ OZ and the Specials had been sticklers for uniform, but the Preventers were apparently more relaxed given that neither Forsythe or Dyer looked mortified their new CO was being greeted this way. Or they had given up on Duo. That was possible too. "It has, Maxwell." Some friendly warmth, not too much, enough for the fact they'd fought together in the past. "Didn't really think you'd like the uniformed life."

"At some point you realize that you ought to be shot. Then you realize that the reason nobody has shot you is that the ability to shoot people isn't very common." Duo shrugged "I can shoot people, so I'm putting the talent to use."

"He makes it sound so noble." Hilde Schbeiker as advertized. Two other people, no, three.

One wore the rank bars of a Lieutenant Commander. "Introductions," he said. "Gerhard Focht, I'm your XO," pointing at himself. "Those two," he pointed at the other pair, "are Melissa Yin and John Buthelezi. They're your second section."

"Other organization?" Noin asked crisply.

"Dyer's my wing. Forsythe's yours. The comedy team will probably head up Three Flight when we have a Three Flight." Focht replied.

Noin raised an eyebrow at that, directing a look at Maxwell. He smirked and pointed at Hilde. Duo would either be a great success or a terrible failure as an officer. Apparently someone wasn't willing to risk the failure mode for a Duo-lead flight. Noin noted he seemed to be taking it well that Schbeiker had been promoted over him. "All right, done disrupting the routine for now. Focht, one moment of your time?"

The others cleared out. "So, what do I need to know I'm not going to find out from the personnel files?" Noin asked.

"Yin and Buthelezi were White Fang, there's been a little friction between them and the rest of the team." Focht paused, appeared to have a damn-the-consequences moment, and then continued. "In the interest of full disclosure, I think you would have been better off with Forsythe or maybe Dyer as your squadron XO. I can make a mobile suit do things the design specs insist aren't possible and I have seniority in the agency, but my first combat action was the Eve Wars. I'm a genius at making a mobile suit do things the designers never intended, but that's not necessarily what you need. They've got a lot more experience in the other aspects of command."

It took some courage to admit that, Noin thought. "We'll see, I suppose. The Director is a better of judge of character than most give her credit for though. She thought you could do this."

"I can." Focht confirmed. "I'm a working choice. I'm concerned I may not be the optimal choice."

* * *

Two days into her new squadron command, Noin felt that her feet were finally starting to touch the ground. Her Taurus was in refit, ETA about a week, she'd gotten a chance to look over her squadron's records and gotten to speak them all. Three more pilots had been transferred in and they were close to a full-size OZ squadron, but still short of the Alliance-style eighteen suits the Preventers used. The unit wasn't a disaster; the Preventers had the option of taking their pick of mobile suit pilots after all, so everyone was skilled, everyone was a professional.

Noin had actually been surprised by how much so. Focht was the least-experienced pilot in the squadron, with twenty-six hours combat time and thirteen kills. What he had done was get thrown into the Eve Wars as a raw recruit with his Space Leo, and killed seven Virgo II mobile dolls. When Mariemaia had launched her coup, he had taken the tarp off the Space Leo again and turned out to fight the diehards who hadn't surrendered with a stalk-and-kill action in the streets of Brussels. The fact he'd even _survived_ fighting Virgos and Serpents with a Leo marked him as someone of exceptional ability. Hilde's record was actually longer, thirty hours combat time, fourteen kills, but covered purely post-Mariemaia actions against holdouts, rogues, and terrorists with mobile suits. The others had between four hundred and five hundred hours of combat time, and averaged about forty kills...excluding Duo's kill count to prevent the average being too inflated.

Noin had been given a great honor, to command such as these. She knew it, and she felt honored in turn. Not overwhelmed, though; this wasn't quite as bad as having to play team mom to the Gundam pilots back during and before the Eve Wars. Her parents had sent her a letter and she was contemplating expressing these things as she opened it.

A child of Italian nobility, to escape the Roman Catholic Church Noin would have had to kill herself. She hadn't, so here she was. Her family had given her a medallion on a chain when she joined the Specials, almost a decade ago now. On the face was Saint Joan of Arc, a patron saint of those in the military and ever-popular with female soldiers. On the reverse was Saint Joseph of Cupertino, patron of both pilots and space travelers. She'd kept it in a uniform or vacsuit pocket every day of her military life, and had given it back to her family when she left for Mars.

That medallion fell out of the envelope her parents had sent her. She managed to catch it. Noin had quick reflexes, after all. But as she cupped it she froze.

Suddenly reality threatened to collapse on her. Noin was here, on Earth, in a Preventer uniform again. Zechs was not. Her life had reset, the last two years had never happened. She'd told him she'd never leave his side, twice. She'd left.

Maxwell and Schbeiker knew they could kill, so they'd volunteered to put those skills to use for a society that saw those who could kill as monsters. Yin and Buthelezi were still soldiers because they liked soldiering. Forsythe and Focht were here because they were good at being mobile suit pilots. Dyer was still something of a mystery, and Noin suspected he didn't like her from his unwillingness to drop formality. _And I am here because I ran away from a relationship I couldn't cope with._

She closed her hand around the medallion and swore softly. Zechs could be...well, Zechs, quiet, brooding, closed, letting no one in. There were limits to her patience, her ability to fight someone she didn't ever want to fight. The way everyone regarded him after the Eve Wars hadn't helped at all. Zechs had tried to kill a significant portion of humanity, and humanity remembered that. Noin sighed and looped the medallion's chain around her neck, finding some civilian clothes. She'd asked around, found out where Dyer went on his off-base passes. Maybe he'd talk about himself a little.

* * *

"Commander." Dyer greeted her formally, though they were both out of uniform and the setting was one of the off-base clubs usually frequented by New Edwards personnel.

Noin felt vaguely offended. "Do you just not like me or do you honestly think this looks like a uniform?"

"I like you fine as a commander, Commander." Dyer gestured with his drink, at first she thought to her chest, then she realized at the medallion. "And that earns you some points." He closed his eyes and leaned back against the bar. "Where was your family during Operation Daybreak?"

"Italy. Safe." Noin said softly. "I'm guessing yours wasn't."

"My mother was a naval aviator operating off the _Nimitz_. My father had a Leo regiment with First Armored here at New Edwards. My sister was with MMS Five at Portsmouth. My brother wasn't old enough to enlist and lived on-base here." Dyer opened his green eyes. "My family got a lot smaller. My dad died in the first twenty minutes. I don't think he ever knew what was happening. My brother didn't live much longer. My mom died on day three, flying cover for the battlegroup. Took five Aries with her, though. Proud of her for that. My aunts and uncles on both sides were dead by day five. My cousins were all dead by day six. My sister lost two Pisces in the first twenty days, in exchange for about twenty OZ suits. She lived, she's a Preventer too now. Four buildings down from us."

"MMS Two." Noin said. She was silent for a few more seconds. "You hate me, don't you?"

Dyer's expression softened considerably and he finished a small silver cross out of his left pocket, showing it to her briefly. "Luke, twenty-three thirty-four. No, I don't hate you. You were doing what you thought was right, and you were willing to admit your mistakes." The cross disappeared into his pocket again. "I'm worried, however, that I'm not as forgiving as I think I am. So we'll get along, but I'm not sure we can be friends...Noin."

_Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do. _She'd met few people who could quote scripture in casual conversation. "I understand." Noin said. "I'll be out of your way, then."

He laughed softly. "You don't have to _run_, Commander. Dance?"

Noin gestured to the ring Zechs had given her, which she still wore even if she wasn't sure it meant something. "You're smarter than that."

"It lets me be polite with no pressure to actually perform," he acknowledged, with a faint grin. Noin shook her head and escaped.

* * *

Simulators existed for a lot of reasons. One of them was to exorcise a pilot's personal demons. It was technically after lights-out, but Noin knew she could make it through one night of inadequate sleep. She threw the Taurus into a maximum turn and watched the world rotate and turn around her. The Taurus was the only mobile suit that really flew _well_. The others represented various degrees of the triumph of raw engine power over aerodynamics, from the Aries' total ignorance of aerodynamic design to Wing Zero's mere inability to grasp what parasitic drag was.

The Preventer model had gained a couple of tons in improved armor and thrusters, and lost some aerodynamic drag from the reangled plating. The additional power meant it actually performed better than the Taurus she was used to, though she expected that wouldn't be the case once you strapped on the five tons of external ordnance it was rated for.

"You should be in bed, One." Forsythe's voice from her sim's radio.

"So should you, Two." Noin shot back.

"A good wing never sleeps while her lead is awake. Mind if I join you?" Forsythe asked.

"Just getting comfy with the Preventer mods." Her _real_ Taurus was in the shop, but one thing the squadron maintenance crew had been specific about though was that they would only alter the Sanq Kingdom colors on her Taurus with her permission; the suit was still considered her personal property. She'd been surprised to discover it even retained those colors in the simulscape.

"Well, let me give a few tips." A second Taurus materialized in the simulscape and slid into wing position. "Make things quick. You tried to VIFF yet?"

VIFF stood for Vector In Forward Flight. A Taurus was a Space Mobile Suit and had orientation and maneuvering thrusters, but the original model's just weren't powerful enough to allow it to vector in atmosphere. "Not yet," Noin confirmed, and throttled down. "You have the lead, Two."

"Two has the lead. Give me a little more room, one of these stunts is involved." Forsythe throttled up slightly to make some more room in the wing pair. "Up." The directional thrusters fired and the Taurus leaped ten or fifteen meters. "Down." The same amount down, maybe a little more. "Throttling down to three hundred." That was nearer than the fighter-mode Taurus' rated stall speed than most people would be comfortable executing radical maneuvers at, and Noin was curious. "Kickflip."

The grey and white Taurus fired its orientation and maneuvering thrusters; the forward ones fired up, the aft ones down. The Taurus rapidly decelerated as it flipped end for end, then Forsythe slammed the throttles forward and the drive flare brightened immensely as the Taurus wobbled for a moment before accelerating smoothly in the opposite direction. Noin didn't even try to follow the maneuver, well aware she probably couldn't as a first-timer. "You have to get close to stall speed to have enough reserve power for that, don't you?"

"Pretty much. It's something for when you're low, slow, and out of other options." Forsythe slid back into the wing position again after turning around and leaving the invert she'd ended up in. "You have the lead, One. Some people do more thrusterwork and rotate so they don't invert, but it's a lot of extra hassle. Gravity messing with their heads or some such spacenoid propaganda. Want to give it a try?"

"One has the lead. All right. Give me some room, I'm probably going to blow this." Noin replied. "What sims are for."

Noin didn't manage the stall and added power quite well, and stalled out completely before adding power. It wasn't hard to recover, though, the Taurus had plenty of power in reserve. "Let's try that again." She climbed back to initial altitude again and slowed down once more. This time the Taurus completed the maneuver, with the wobble she'd noticed Forsythe's do.

It wasn't all teaching one way, either. Noin had been a test pilot for the Taurus, and had some old tricks up her sleeves that still worked. They were busy until dawn broke, when Hilde glanced into the sim area and found them at the control desk, chatting. "Aren't you two supposed to sleep?"

"Girl's night out." Forsythe replied, with a smirk.

"Girl's night in." Noin corrected, amused. "We'll invite you next time, Schbeiker. Breakfast on?"

"Yeah." Hilde did not look entirely sure how to take this. "You're coming?"

Noin got out of the control desk's chair, and Forsythe stood from where she'd been sitting on it. "Sure," Noin said. "Let's go."


	2. Taxiing

The song referenced here is given a name as some variation on "The Revel"; it's usually credited originally to Bartholomew Dowling, an Irish author and poet (probably wrongly credited, as it's supposedly written from first-hand experience of a plague India while he never visited India).

Back in the day I had a saying that until you wrote some giant robot combat you weren't really writing Gundam Wing. Let's get down to it.

**Taxiing**

Noin mentally reviewed her schedule today. Wake up, simulator time, breakfast, greeting four new pilots coming in today to help fill out the squadron, check the results of Two Flight's combat certification test, lunch, paperwork, couple of hours personal time if she got that done, dinner, sleep.

The certification test, known unofficially as "The Gundam Test" was simple in theory: defeat one of the five original Gundams in simulation. This didn't sound difficult, considering the originals were arguably inferior to the mobile suits the Preventers used. The problem was that the Preventers also had three of the original pilots and they usually turned up to play themselves in the sim. In this case, Duo Maxwell would be piloting the simulated Deathscythe against Two Flight, so they were in for quite a workout.

It also meant they didn't have to fly in Wufei Chang, which was just fine with Noin. She knew there was a third Gundam pilot with the Preventers as well, but somehow nobody seemed to know who it was. It still couldn't be Winner, since he was a public figure.

Forsythe came to attention as Noin entered the simulator area. Noin waved her down. "At ease. Warmups?" It was Noin's policy that you should spend at least sixty minutes in the air or in a simulator every day if you had the ability.

"Six Virgo Twos. Nice and easy." Forsythe replied. It was a reflection of how far things had come that Virgo mobile dolls were seen as anything less than an apocalyptic scenario. Forsythe was exaggerating a bit, but...for them, not too much. Besides, there were only outnumbered three to one. Noin's combat career had mostly been fighting against much longer odds.

* * *

The paperwork wasn't so bad. Actually better than what she remembered from her Specials days, far less painful than when she was running the entire military of the Sanq Kingdom under Relena's nose. Something else was bothering her though. She was the only OZ-trained pilot in the squadron. And with some trepidation she called up the roster of the last graduating class of the Victoria Space Combat Academy.

* * *

The first thing Noin noticed about her upgraded Taurus was not the changed armor plate or the improved thrusters. It was the beam rifle, the slightly longer but overall slimmed-down Preventer version with improved killing power. Or more specifically...

"Is that a _bayonet lug_?" Noin demanded, incredulous.

"It is," Forsythe said, also surveying the newly upgraded suit. She knew the way a Preventer Taurus was _supposed_ to look better than her squadron leader, and had been conscripted to help with the walkaround.

Across the way, Duo looked up from where he was messing with something inside his MS cockpit. "It works, Boss. You use one of the suit's beamsabers on it. I bought the farm in yesterday's sim because it let someone parry the first strike while they drew a beamsaber."

Noin's grimace betrayed both her belief that what Duo was saying was true, and her inborn Specials dislike of so...inelegant a weapon. She shook her head; the Specials and OZ were gone, at least in part because they hadn't liked inelegant approaches to battle. The beamsabers, of which the suit had a pair, were stored on the hip armor. She hadn't used a beamsaber since basic MS training, a decade ago. She was going to need to practice. "Who's the squadron beamsaber expert?" Noin asked Forsythe.

"Probably Maxwell. He fights weird, though. Reverse grip." Forsythe shrugged. "Actually, Dyer fights weird too. Kendo influences, I think." The standard beamsaber combat style had been developed based on European fencing styles, because OZ and its Specials front had been fundamentally European organizations. It was probably inevitable that alternate styles would be developed based on alternate traditions of swordsmanship, Noin reflected, but Maxwell's reverse-grip method...

"Maxwell!" she called. Duo raised his head again. "Reverse grip?"

"A mobile suit isn't a human. Most of its joints aren't quite as flexible, but the wrists can rotate much further. Play to your strengths." Duo replied. "Worked it out as a consulting gig for the Preventers after the Mariemaia thing. Most boring three months of my life."

"All right. You're doing two hours in the sim with me before lights out until further notice. I need to brush up." Noin shrugged in response to the look from Forsythe. She wasn't the kind of leader who never admitted weakness.

Noin waved Forsythe off and touched the door to embark, freezing a moment as she did so. Once again, reality threatened to collapse for a moment, but she fought it off this time. The Taurus made it easier, and there was a tiny wince about that fact.

* * *

"You were looking kind of zoned when we mounted up, One." Forsythe's voice. This was the start of the checkouts on the new Taurus: cleanup detail on the devastated portions of New Edwards. Noin refrained from wincing. Forsythe was a very good wing, because she was good at reading people from their actions. Unfortunately, she was therefore _good at reading people._

"I was looking up what happened to the people I graduated out of Victoria, last night." Noin replied, her Taurus leaning down to grab a slab of concrete that had once been the roof of a hardened hanger. "It...wasn't very encouraging. I've got this end."

"Copy. On three...one, two, three." They lifted the concrete slab onto the extra-large dumptruck and watched it drive off. "The Vicky Kids scared the hell out of us, back in the Alliance Space Forces. You could spot them by how they moved their suits, how they fought. Some of us had nightmares about them. You did an excellent job, you know."

"Then why..." Noin trailed off and shook her head.

"They were in a bad spot. We played dead after Operation Daybreak, just drew back and pretended we didn't exist. When the White Fang happened, we came back too. They were in a vice and they weren't getting the support they needed from Earth." Forsythe's tone was soft. "But you taught them well about duty and honor, you know. Their duty was to fight, and fight they did. We hated those kids. They never rolled over and died. They never did something stupid. They made us work for it, every time." Forsythe's head shake was almost audible; Noin could also read people. "You should be proud of those kids, One."

"I am. But one in fifty survived. That's ten of them, maybe a couple more. And I graduated each of those classes. It's...very bleak, very personal." Noin sighed. "You grab that wall, I'll deal with this one." The rest of the hanger's remains went into a different truck, which also drove off. "It's at times like this I think I get an inkling of what drove Zechs to do some of the things he did. Make it all so horrible that nobody can ever think about it again."

"Doesn't work, though." Forsythe replied.

"You get a generation at best." Noin agreed. If she'd actually ever believed in Zechs' plan...but her family history remembered names like Tonale Pass and Vittorio, where Italy had secured its existence as a nation at immense cost in lives. The family history also remembered Beda Fomm twenty-two years later, though with a great deal less fondness.

She loved Zechs, but to love someone was to observe them keenly. Including their faults. And of course, there was the lurking problem in all plans to traumatize humanity as a whole: it was wrong. Any woman who habitually wore the image of _two_ saints probably had very strong opinions on the concepts of right and wrong, and Noin was not an exception to that.

Noin carefully drew out the suit's beamsaber and proceeded to cut up a damaged building into more manageable chunks for the two Taurus to transfer to another truck. Noin noticed her Taurus' left arm twitched, glanced at her systems panel, and sighed. "The movement control comp for the left arm is spitting some minor errors. Bypassing it." She started hitting buttons on the side console to run the bypass.

"Post-upgrade blues." Forsythe sounded amused. "Nothing works perfect the first time after a major refit. When the Block Two came out for the Space Leo...now that was a mess."

Noin laughed as she finished the bypass. "I was actually there for that, you know."

"Specials are all groundpounders at heart," Forsythe replied, affecting a snooty accent. "God, what fools we all were when we were younger. Since I guess we still count as young." Forsythe herself was actually four years older than Noin, but that only made her 26.

"Does that mean youth is wasted on us still?" Noin asked, once again unclipping the beamsaber to chop up another hardened building.

"Probably." Forsythe started moving bits of the building into the first dump truck, which had come back. "That roof slab's going to tip a truck."

"I'll cut it down." And the day rolled on.

* * *

Noin's dreams that night were not pleasant. She tried to exorcise them through her shower and putting on her uniform and her vacsuit, which was required as it also doubled as a flight suit, but it didn't work. Still...her Taurus was ready to fly. And flight had always offered a refuge against her nightmares, save for that one Christmas Eve.

Noin was surprised to discover that the Taurus was fully armed. In fact, they all were now, with both their standard armament and their external ordnance. A six-pack of missiles on each chest hardpoint, with the launch package being aerodynamically shaped so it looked like it was actually part of the Taurus.

"Commander!" Duo's voice, and she turned. He was also suited up for flight, with the Preventer-style grey vacsuit. One thing Noin had noted was that someone had done more to make the suits comfortable since the Eve Wars, in a way that made her suspect some former pilot had founded a company and started making them. "I hear you've got to make a check hop too."

Noin glanced at him. "What's changed with your suit?"

"Replacing an old fuel pump." Duo said. "I hope you don't mind the company, Boss."

Noin was dismissive of any potential complaint. "I'm not being babysat." But Duo didn't immediately reply, and she scrutinized him more thoroughly. "I am being babysat, aren't I?"

"Boss..." Duo paused. "Look, people may not recognize your name like they do mine, but I was there when we hit _Libra_. You splashed more than your fair share of Virgos. And the Director knows you personally and she likes you in exactly the way she _doesn't_ like me. Intelligence has been rumbling a lot lately about our part of the world. And as messed up as it sounds, you're also the closest thing I've ever had to a mother, so I'm going to be a little protective." He gave her one of his cocky grins. "I really did have a fuel pump replaced."

_The closest thing-_ "You can't mean that."

"Just because I'm the most normal child soldier you know doesn't mean I'm _actually_ normal." Duo's expression was, for once, dead serious. "My life before we met is actually a story that'll make you want to kill everyone involved. And we both know Po had her hands full with Wufei. Let's fly, Commander."

* * *

"Lightning, flight of two. Requesting clearance for takeoff, vector for Victoria."

Duo's face appeared on the screen at the corner of her forward view; unlike the ex-Alliance types who regarded the visual transmission as a distraction, he actually seemed to believe in that sort of thing. "We going to visit old haunts?"

"That's not particularly funny." Noin replied.

Duo visibly winced. "Sorry Boss. Not always good at engaging brain before I open mouth."

"Lightning Flight, clearance granted. Vector zero-seven-five at fifteen thousand and hand off to Central Africa ATC."

* * *

Mach 3.3, as fast as the Preventer-modified Taurus could go in an Earth atmosphere. Then a hard burn of retros, firing orientation thrusters, the Taurus rotating into the start of a barrel roll, nose rising and flipping back, stall, flip upright and force the nose down with the thrusters, recover and burn the opposite direction.

She throttled down to a more reasonable speed and couldn't hold down the single giddy laugh. She'd never flown anything that could have made that maneuver before. Uninverting in a stall, forcing the nose down without the control surfaces; the Aries could vector, but not like this. This was dancing.

"Having fun, Boss?"

This time she didn't fight the laughter. "Yes, Duo. Yes I am." Her chest hurt, and Noin suspected the beginnings of a Pilot's Kiss; the x-shaped chest bruise that resulted from being pressed against the four-point restraint harness on all mobile suits. She also found she didn't care; she'd not had that particular occupational injury in the last three years.

It felt...right, somehow. A resurrection. The sheer joy of flight threatened to overwhelm her. Noin hated herself for it for a few seconds; this wasn't... But the thought couldn't complete. Not here. Not at the controls of a Taurus again. The hatred of combat that she was _supposed_ to have learned melted in the face of the reality of flight.

* * *

Victoria Space Combat Academy had never been rebuilt. Chosen for its remote location, that had counted against it when it came time to rebuild and when the Preventers had easier and friendlier access to actual space colonies as training bases for exoatmospheric operations.

It had also become a shrine for those who thought the treatment of the Gundam pilots had been too lenient, that their heroism was no match for their crimes. Noin...wasn't sure she liked that. Granted she would never speak kindly of the pilot of Gundam 05, which was how she still thought of Wufei. But she had a personal understanding of this tragedy, and that it had been politicized made her unreasonably angry. A rallying cry for those with grievances, certainly, she could understand and even appreciate that. A symbol of a past that shouldn't be forgotten, certainly. A political talking point for people who didn't want Lady Une in a position of power in the ESUN government...

Lucrezia Noin was glad she'd never met any of the people who did that. She was quite sure she'd react violently to them. The area was mostly empty to her eyes, with only a few people about as her Taurus came in low outside the old perimeter fence and switched modes.

"First time I've ever been here, Boss." Duo said. He surveyed the scene with practiced eyes, too practiced for his age of 17, and Noin watched his expression shifting before her eyes, growing darker. "He blew the cadet barracks first, didn't he?" Duo asked, voice gone cold.

"Yes," Noin replied quietly.

"Figures. The work's too good to have been done with MS weaponry. Precise placement of explosives, controlled demolition, blow out the interior, make the walls flop on what's left to ensure nobody gets out. Would have to be done on foot." There was a clinical manner to Duo's tone, but also a deep loathing.

"You sound disgusted." Noin observed, still soft.

"The first thing to understand about us Gundam pilots is that we are all bundles of amazing, fucked-up issues." Duo replied. "Trowa literally didn't have a name before he climbed into Heavyarms. I saw the orphanage that's the first place I can remember get burned and blasted by some out-of-control Alliance maniacs. Heero's been trained to fight since before he could walk. Quatre's teen rebellion involved building a Gundam. I don't know what Wufei's story is 'cuz he won't tell it, but believe me when I say he's the hardest of us to work with and the one with the most serious issues."

Duo's Taurus shifted slightly, surveying the old compound. "And after what he pulled with joining Mariemaia, I'm not sure he's got his head screwed on straight, Boss. I _think_ he does, but I'm not _sure_ he does anymore. Considering his usual talking points, this ain't helping my opinion."

"I'm going to dismount." Noin said after a few moments absorbing that statement. "Pay my respects."

"Copy. I think I'll stay suited up if it's okay Boss, don't want to cause an uproar." Duo replied.

"Agreed."

* * *

Dismounting after having come home, with a rather serious set of aerobatics along the way to exorcise the last of the Lake Victoria demons, Noin dismounted from her Taurus. She probably looked a mess; sweaty, hair out of order, but...the Taurus left her unable to quite erase a small grin, too. It was amazing. The best thing she could ever think of flying.

Dyer was waiting at the entrance into the building. "Skipper." The nod was respectful, but Noin actually didn't understand the reference. It wasn't really her fault. The Specials hadn't had a naval component until late in their existence, long after Noin had been insulated at Victoria. She managed to mask her confusion well, and noted that from Duo's reaction that he apparently approved, while Forsythe...

Forsythe looked a little surprised. And also a little pleased. That was probably a better measure than Duo's reaction, so Noin nodded back and resolved to look it up later. "Lieutenant." Truth be told, Dyer...reminded her in an odd way of Lady Une during her less-approachable periods; hard eyes and an expression only when he was speaking. He wasn't as angry or cold, but the resemblance was enough to discomfort her occasionally.

"Dinner's ready in the mess, so you're just in time." Dyer said, and lead the way. He didn't sit yet, though. "And, a moment for our anthem." Dyer said. It was an old song, predating even flight, but it was one every fighter pilot knew. A lot of that had to do with fact every fighter pilot had seen Errol Flynn's turn playing a fighter pilot of the First World War, though Noin noted that Dyer conspicuously omitted the verse about betrayal.

She also noted he actually sang decently. Not performance-quality, but better than she would have expected. One by one the other members of the squadron joined in. Even if they didn't know the words. It was...odd but she felt she was literally watching them come together as a unit for the first time. And in that moment she also understood why she'd run away from a dysfunctional relationship by rejoining the military.

Because it _worked_ here. Because she felt like she belonged, like everyone belonged, like she could trust the person in the next seat, the next room, the next mobile suit. Because she understood it, in exactly the way she couldn't always understand Zechs.

And that realization wasn't a very comfortable one.

* * *

It was about four in the morning when the klaxon went off. Noin was about to hit the shower in preparation for starting the day, but instead she grabbed her vacsuit and struggled halfway into it, exiting the room as she zipped it shut. The hall was full of half-dressed pilots scrambling into their flightsuits and sprinting for the hanger, and she joined them.

Noin noted that three Tauri were already disengaging from their maintenance gantries. Two others had already made it out the door and were in a flat run to minimum safe distance from the hanger before they took to the air.

She mounted the ladder and was in her cockpit in five quick pulls, skipping a number of the rungs. She hit the switches for rapid startup in the same motion she pushed herself into her seat. Scrambling was a procedure you never forgot. The screens lighted up and the suit's power output and systems reported they were performing to spec. "Lightning Actual is online."

"Lightning Actual, this is Tower. Scramble and vector three-one-three at maximum cruise. You're going to Epyon's Grave. Further data as the situation develops. Over." While Tower conveyed the information, Noin was disengaging her Taurus from its gantry and moving out of the hanger, working up to a sprint.

Epyon's Grave was where the wreckage of _Libra_ that had actually penetrated the atmosphere had landed in the mid-Atlantic, and the purported resting place of the Gundam Epyon. Noin heard the Taurus' thrusters light off under her and felt the pressure of acceleration as it leaped skyward, going to fighter mode. "Lightning Squadron, form on me."

A series of acknowledgements came back, then another transmission from the tower. "Lightning Actual, this is the CINC New Edwards. MMS Two is loading aboard suborbital transports also en route to Epyon's Grave. Report any contacts that could interfere with deployment and secure the area. Do not allow any surface or airborne contacts to exit the area. Repeat, all surface and air contacts should be detained. Use of force is authorized. Uploading coordinates. Other units are being diverted to assist. Identify with IFF, codeword Thunderclap."

Noin's suit spit out its projected flight time at its cruising speed of Mach two point five. "Copy. Lightning is outbound, ETA one hour thirty minutes" She looked to see most of the squadron had assumed formation around her, Forsythe to her right, behind, and above by three hundred meters, the second section a kilometer behind and half a klick above, the third section a kilometer behind that and half a klick below her; the other two flights were further out in a macro version of the flight deployment. The spacing was meant to prevent any wide-scale beam cannon shot or missile volley from successfully hitting more than one or two suits .

"Lightning, this is Lead." Noin was all business now. "We're outbound to Epyon's Grave, uploading coordinates. We are to secure the area, detain anything and anyone we find, and report any contacts en route. MMS Two and other units will be joining us as they become available. Use your IFF and check their identity via challenge. The correct response is Thunderclap. If you have to use force to do it, you are clear to do so _within reason_. Warning shots only except by my direct order."

Again the responses in order, and she settled in for the flight, watching her radar closely. Forsythe's own Taurus shadowed hers perfectly, and Noin had a single moment to admire the precision with which even simple formation flying was executed.

* * *

"Lightning, Eight, I have intermittent contacts at five hundred klicks, dead ahead, our altitude." Dyer's voice actually seemed more animated in the cockpit.

"Two. Confirm-strobe! Somebody just lit countermeasures." Forsythe's voice was less so.

Noin watched her radar attempt to compensate for the jamming, the ECCM software eventually settling at a reduced range of two hundred fifty klicks after boosting power and trying some frequency-hopping tricks. "New Edwards CINC," it was pronounced 'sink' usually, "this is Lightning Actual. We are receiving jamming over the target area."

They crossed the distance in a minute. "Lead to squadron. Multiple airborne contacts emitting jamming and search radar signals. Designation Aries." Radar types were distinctive. Which meant the Aries likely knew what they were dealing with too. A standard Aries suit had to trade one of its wing mounts for an ECM pod, Noin knew, but these might not be standard. "Climb three klicks."

"Unknown flight, this is Preventer Space Mobile Suit Squadron Twenty-Two. Under the authority of the Earth United Sphere Defense Act, deactivate your ECM and radar and inform your mothership to heave to." Her radar wasn't tracking it yet, but there had to be a mothership. Aries weren't fast enough to get all the way out here without a mothership or a refueling stop. It'd take them eight hours, and they only flew for six. "If you do not comply, we are authorized to use force."

"SMS Twenty-Two we do not recognize your authority to give us orders. Do not approach closer than twenty kilometers or we will fire on you."

"Lightning Actual." A new voice. Lady Une's voice. "This is the Director. We have reason to believe they are defending a salvage operation for the Gundam Epyon and may attempt to activate it. I don't need to tell you what happens if they do." Only a few people had ever used a Zero System without going utterly berserk. "Find that mothership and stop them. If you are engaged, respond in kind."

"Understood, Director. Lightning, we're going in. Fingers on your ECM switches. Do not fire unless I order otherwise." Noin switched to an almost soft tone. "Unknown Aries flight, this is your last warning. We're coming in."

No response. "Lightning, this is Lead. One and Two Flights, accelerate to max speed and follow me in. Three Flight, top cover. Engage if someone needs help." Three Flight was still weak, with only two suits.

"Two." Forsythe responded only with her place in the the formation, following Noin's wingover and dive on the Aries formation.

There were about twenty-five of them, maybe a few more, and they had turned and climbed towards the Taurus of SMS 22, but the Aries weren't as fast and didn't have the raw power that let the Taurus climb so rapidly. Noin's Taurus was on them in thirty seconds, blowing through the middle of their formation with Forsythe tucked in close. What had been a tight, disciplined formation blew apart as the Aries scattered like pigeons before a hawk.

"Four is defensive!" That was Yin, whose Taurus broke formation as a pair of grey missile trails extended towards it. The Taurus didn't use the usual flares-and-chaff missile countermeasures, for the simple reason that in space they usually didn't work well. Instead, it had a small store of "Firecrackers", countermeasures that were designed to temporarily blind a missile seekerhead by producing a broad spectrum flash of infrared, visual, and microwave-frequency radiation. Yin's Taurus dumped a Firecracker as it climbed over the Aries formation, Buthelezi's Taurus pulling up smoothly and falling into a wing slot for her from its lead position, dumping another Firecracker as well. The missiles went wild, but a storm of chaingun fire followed the two Taurus suits.

"Lightning, engage! Damaging shots if you can." An Aries appeared behind Noin's Taurus, firing its chaingun even as it quickly fell behind the Taurus, only for Forsythe to pounce on it and cripple with a beam shot to the engine. The Aries dropped, trailing black smoke and losing altitude.

Two Flight hit the Aries before they could regroup. The first section did some maneuver Noin couldn't figure out just watching from this distance, slashing into and then back through the formation in thirty seconds, a half-dozen Aries dropping and one outright exploding. "Splash." Dyer announced dispassionately, even over the sound of a random chaingun burst glancing off his suit's armor. If anything, he seemed slightly disgusted. The other two sections pounced on a separate element of eight Aries that were trying to go after the first section of Two Flight and tore them up, four damaged and four diving for the deck with Taurus in pursuit.

Noin swept into a high-gee turn for a second pass. "Lead, Six, missiles inbound! Break!"

They had _all _fired at her. Infrared missiles, considering there had been no lock warning. She counted at least a dozen missiles inbound and held her turn, dumping a pair of Firecrackers and pulling a hard turn to try and keep them abreast of the suit, watching a few lose their locks but more kept coming. Forsythe slid between her and the missiles and dumped a Firecracker, confusing them as the two Taurus broke in separate directions, up and down. A couple of the remaining missiles went after Forsythe instead, but three more came at Noin. She heard a couple of splash calls, but was too busy fighting the threat to her life to pay attention.

"Lance with three!" Three other missiles shot into the space between Noin's Taurus and the inbound, killing the ones approaching her.

"Lance with two." Forsythe's problems also went away. Lance was the Preventer code for a radar-guided missile launch.

"Two!" Noin called.

"Two's okay." Forsythe replied.

"Stay on them but cease fire." The Aries were completely on the back foot by now, with most of the survivors just barely able to stay airborne from their damage or being pursued by a Taurus. Noin also counted four parachutes in the air. She'd missed some splashes. "Aries flight, you can surrender or we can destroy you. The choice is yours."

"SMS Twenty-Two, this is Aries flight." It was a different voice then before. "We surrender. Jettisoning weapons and shutting down electronics."

"Sverdlov you coward!" That was the original voice.

"Christ, he just fired at his own man!" Duo's voice, and a string of chaingun fire extended between two Aries, one of which evaded.

The firing Aries exploded a moment later, hit by Dyer's and Focht's beam fire. "Splash." Focht said.

"Does anyone else want to voice a dissent?" Noin asked, with a politeness that could have cut glass. "Descend to one hundred meters, jettison your weapons, and shut down your electronics." She switched back to the squadron channel. "Three Flight, find that mothership."

"We've got it," Hilde assured her. "Looks like a supertanker."


	3. Unstick

I said only parts of Frozen Teardrop had been included due to conflicting with the original draft; Noin's family is one of the things that conflicted too heavily with the original draft. In the rather monarchist world of Gundam Wing, I'm going to assume the Italian monarchy never collapsed. With the Alliance and the subsequent steps towards unification how much power it actually carries is deeply debatable, but it's still there. The astute among you can probably guess the line Noin is descended from. If you're astute-but-not-about-Italian-nobility, her father is the Duke of Aosta. This means, depending on siblings and the current succession laws, she probably also has a title. As Dyer suggests she might even be a Duchess (of Apulia).

This chapter was actually unplanned, and results from splitting off the first half of the next chapter due to incorporating an extra dogfight scene. Zombie Epyon was too good to pass up.

**Unstick**

Sixteen Aries were lined up, weaponless and cockpits open, on the tanker. Most of them were damaged. Duo's black-and-blue Taurus was perched in front of the bridge, with Hilde's more standard grey-and-white facing towards the Aries. Three other Aries were clawing their way towards the ship and hoping they retained enough altitude not to crash into the side while trying to land, while a few other Taurus lurked about in the immediate area, running racetracks. The rest were higher and more distant, their grey and white paint schemes hard to spot against the sky.

"Forsythe." Noin said softly on a private channel. "What were you doing putting yourself in front of that missile volley?"

"A good wing looks after her lead. Especially when her lead is a squadron commander and notable hero." Forsythe's reply was delivered calmly. "I can handle a couple of missiles, Skipper. I wouldn't be here if I couldn't."

Noin took a deep breath. "All right. But keep in mind if we both die then life is harder on those left."

"Boss." Duo's voice on the squadron channel. "I've been looking at the bridge close with my suit's magnification. They've got some nice toys aboard. Camera sleds, winches, deepwater submersibles. If they really were looking for Epyon, they've got the tools to find it and recover it."

"Any sign they did, Twelve?" Noin asked.

"They've still got a camera sled down, but they were headed towards something they've got a pinger on, probably bringing something up with lift bags..." It was all babble to Noin. "They're bringing something up nearby. I'd have to dismount to tell you where exactly, but it's probably got radar reflectors on it."

"Seven?" Noin asked.

"Seven here." Focht replied.

"Take your flight up to five klicks and look for small radar signatures on the water."

"Lightning, Triton. Thunderclap. We're two minutes out. Anything left for us to do?" The voice was younger than she expected, and had the same accent that Dyer did. The sister he'd mentioned was actually MMS Two's commander?

"Might be. They had a heavy escort and we haven't been able to deny a subsurface component. We're also looking for some salvage subs. They probably can't run but they might try to hide." Noin paused and glanced at a secondary display. "We also have some hostiles down in the water in need of SAR."

"Cleanup duty." There was some humor in that comment. "Okay Lightning, transmit coordinates."

"Uploading." Noin replied. "Sorry, Triton."

"Lead, Seven. Got a radar target to the north about two clicks from the tanker. I've got a cloud in the way, but it ought to be in your view."

Noin glanced in that direction. "Minisub, and some big plastic bags...lift bags?"

"Yeah Boss." Duo said. "They pulled something up."

"Three, Four." Buthelezi and Yin. "Get over there and make sure whoever's in that sub stays in it rather than trying to deep six whatever they had."

"Copy. Compliance." Buthelezi replied.

"There's a few Cancer suits around here," Buthelezi reported. "One of them just ducked under away from the minisub. Keep an eye out for SAM launches." The Cancer had the annoying ability to launch missiles in addition to torpedoes, if properly fitted. "Lead...it's Epyon. They found it."

Noin reefed the Taurus around hard and accelerated in that direction. She wasn't the only one; Focht's wing pair broke from its orbit and so did at least one other. "Willem, stay on station."

"Copy Lead." Willem lead the third section of One Flight.

"Three, what's it read like?" Noin asked.

"Cold. Colder than the water around it even." Buthelezi replied.

"It's been in the abyssal zone for years." Duo put in. "It could have been running its reactor the whole time and it'd still be nearly frozen. I can see it from here, Boss." There was a pause. Noin could see the distinctive dark purple head and upper torso, complete with the large "jewel" sensor eye now. "Did it just-" Duo said.

"Lead, **evade**." Dyer, with a tone of command and urgency worthy of Zechs Merquise or even Treize Kushrenada. Noin's Taurus stood on its left wingtip and turned hard before she was even consciously aware of what she'd heard. The beam sword shot up out of the water at the size she'd only ever seen it when Zechs was practically cutting Barge in half, right in her previous line of flight. Then Epyon was after her in a cloud of steam as its engines lit. It was missing a leg from the knee down, but it was still flying under thruster power. How it was still operational after years underwater was a mystery Noin had absolutely no time or interest for.

There was a babble of overlapping voices. "Oh god-" "-Mary, full of-" "We're so fu-" _"Shut up and fight the threat or we're dead!"_ Focht yelled, clearing the squadron's comms. "Two Flight, missile runs, do not approach closer than two klicks!"

The good news was that Epyon didn't have any ranged weapons, or it was very likely she'd be dead already. Its damage appeared to have ruined some of its aerodynamics, and prevented it from converting from mobile suit mode. "Triton, Lighting, do not approach!" There was a great deal of urgency in her voice. Noin made a turn that pressed her against the left arm of the command chair, ten or twelve gees, darkness creeping into the corners of her vision as the vacsuit constricted around her limbs and tightened across her chest, acting as a g-suit as well. The old skills; tighten your body, resist the gees, fight it. _Can't black out. You'll die if you black out._ It felt like the armrest was trying to cut her body in half.

She rolled slightly and eased off the turn down to about six gees, her head turned back and left to try and keep Epyon in sight in the cockpit's panoramic screens. Noin had managed to lose her own wing with that turn. She hadn't lost Epyon. _Impossible. Desperation move to get in it. Can't have a flight suit or pilot's vacsuit. They'd black out. And with the Zero System..._ "Forsythe, _don't_ link up."

"Foxtrot tango, Skipper!" She'd heard other Alliance soldiers use that phrase, given orders they could not, or would not, obey. _Foxtrot tango _was phonetic alphabet, literally _fuck that_. Noin didn't have time to consider that Forsythe had used the same nickname Dyer did.

"The Zero System takes the easier targets first." Noin was still struggling to breathe, grunting with exertion. Six gees was nothing to sniff at. "It should have gone after you, not me. Don't link up."

"Can't lock him," Hilde said. "I'm positive for guns but he's screwing with my missile seekers."

"No guns. Trackbreaker will run out of tricks." Noin replied. God above, she hoped it was true. Epyon closed again as she rolled level, prompting her to break into a reversed turn. This time the darkness closed in further, and she strained harder, panting as she eased off twenty seconds later. "Somebody give me an estimate on the gees it's pulling." She couldn't pull this many gees too often. Tightening every muscle in your body and then trying to move your head and arms when they effectively weighed as much as your torso normally took it out of you.

"Eleven to twelve gees, Skipper." Dyer. "Have lock. Lance with ten." Grey trails came down from altitude as the missile volley arrowed in, only to suddenly wobble and detonate short. "Lost lock. He broke track when they were in the air. Bastard bluffed me into wasting my missiles."

_Am I fighting a working Zero System?_ The obvious answer was no; she'd be dead if she was. But that trick had been too savvy for an amateur and too high-risk for a veteran that didn't have the perfect timing a Zero System would give. "Two, you have guns?"

"Affirm."

"Make it notice." She reached over and pulled the lever that blew the explosive bolts holding her own missile racks on the Taurus. She'd never get more than a snapshot at this point. They were two tons of dead weight, costing her speed and maneuverability she was going to need. The Taurus gained some altitude as the weight fell away. Then Epyon was there again and it was time for another turn, ten gees this time. It didn't seem quite as punishing, but that was probably illusory.

"Aye-aye!" The white-and-grey Taurus of her wingman rolled in behind Epyon and hammered at it with a long burst of beam fire. Epyon was a second-generation Gundam; most of it did little more than warm the armor. Most. The Preventer beam rifle for the Taurus had an operational specification that it be able to penetrate a certain percentage of the armor on a second-generation Gundam.

In this case, two shots penetrated one of the wing joints, and Epyon flicked out of its turn as the wing froze in place and the suit lost half its ability to vector thrust. At the same moment: "Have lock." Duo and Hilde's voices overlapped. "Lance with six."

Even damaged this was one of the most maneuverable and capable mobile suits ever designed. It avoided most of the missiles, weaving between the armor-piercing warheads, taking a hit on its thickest armor on the chest. But the maneuvers involved had to mean pulling a lot of gees for thirty or forty seconds, not all in the same direction, but...

Noin's Taurus was there next, in a shallow dive, spraying beam fire in an arc above Epyon. It killed its engines into freefall and then shot forward, but she kept lowering her aim, forcing it down under power now. It couldn't fall fast enough. And Epyon didn't have that much altitude to play with either. Epyon rolled inverted and started to pull back in a downwards loop it might, just barely, complete; at the cost of pulling eleven or twelve gees down, negative gees.

Halfway to the water, it went limp and started to tumble. Noin pulled up and rolled inverted to keep watching it, but she was starting to breathe normally again. "Splash."

"We didn't touch him." Foch said. "Not enough to matter, anyways."

"You can't pull as many negative gees before you lose consciousness as you can positive ones." Epyon hit the water at somewhere around six hundred kilometers an hour. "And now they're probably dead," Noin added regretfully. Epyon would survive that, it had survived reentry and splashdown after all, but the pilot would have bashed their head against something hard enough to kill them. "Remember that you are fighting the machine and the pilot both, but you only have to beat one of them."

Noin checked her fuel state. She'd burned a lot of reaction mass running from Epyon. "Triton, you're clear in, and I hope you brought some gas." She turned for the tanker, because she had about forty-five minutes fuel remaining. Not enough to go home on.

"Oh, you know the good old OZ suborbital. Gas and ammo for all." Triton One's voice replied. The old supersonic suborbital OZ transports, like the one Zechs had used, had been one of the few things the Preventers had worked hard to keep from the start. Their ability to land on water as well as landing strips made them able to reach more places, and their ability to refuel and rearm a mobile suit helped too.

The old deep blue transports, with the white Preventer "P" on the wings now, skimmed in low over the water, Pisces landing with a splash. "Got some traffic down here." Triton One said. "Hauler, stay high, some Cancers and minisubs about. We'll clean them up."

"Lightning One, Hauler Three. You need to link up airborne?" Mobile suits weren't equipped for air-to-air refueling in the traditional sense. For an Aries, or later a Taurus, air-to-air refueling meant actually coming aboard a properly-equipped mother aircraft in flight. It was a maneuver every pilot got extremely proficient at during training and none of them ever wanted to actually execute. In her entire OZ career, Noin had done it once that wasn't part of a training exercise, during Operation Daybreak.

"Not quite yet. May need to in ten minutes." That would leave her with a decent reserve in case the linkup proved troublesome. The surface of the water beneath her seemed to jump, followed by the plume of spray, and she banked to avoid it. _Huh. Just like the depth charges in the old movies._ She was probably going to end up watching a lot of old, and recent, movies about naval stuff. Service culture and fitting in meant understanding tradition.

It had been bad enough not knowing what Skipper meant that first time. God help her if she didn't understand the meaning of bulkhead. Triton One's voice intruded on her thoughts: "Scratch two. We have a couple of Cancers and a Pisces surfacing, keep an eye on them. Tritons Five through Eight: SAR for the Aries pilots."

"Oh, and Lightning. We got you a souvenir."

* * *

"What the hell are we supposed to do with a second-gen Gundam?" Focht demanded. "This is the biggest security risk in the Earth Sphere!" The damaged Epyon was currently lying in the middle of an unused hangar. Two active Taurus suits stood guard, in addition to enough Preventer infantry in full battle dress to have fought off a small army; they were setting up sandbagged positions for machine guns and automatic grenade launchers at each of the entrances to the hanger, and Noin thought she had spotted an anti-MS missile team lurking on the roof while she was on the way over. The base commander had already issued orders that anyone who didn't have authorization and approached within a hundred feet of Epyon would be shot. He'd also charged Noin with figuring out a way to neutralize Epyon until it was off New Edwards.

"There are a few options." Duo said. He _was _the resident Gundam expert. "Give me some tools and let me go crazy for a few hours and I can promise you it'll need a full overhaul before it'll turn on again. Alternately, we can wreck the cockpit pretty quickly. Just open it up, insert beam cannon, pull trigger. That'll take weeks to fix."

"I've been asked not to wreck it completely." Noin replied. She grimaced; she would have been happy to vaporize Epyon. That would have eliminated at least one of her nightmares. "Duo, draft whoever you want or need for your sabotage. Be thorough. It's going to be on static display in a museum, with almost all its parts stripped, so aside from preserving its basic structural integrity and not breaking anything in the cockpit, there are no rules."

"Not a single wire properly connected, Boss." Duo promised. He gestured to Hilde, then to Willem and Dyer, making his way over to some of the squadron's technical staff. Noin mentally reviewed those pilots; Willem had been an OZ MS engineer on Luna, Hilde shared Duo's mechanical inclinations and had run a salvage company. She knew Dyer had an engineering background, enough of one that he apparently held some patents on his work, and that was probably enough for simple sabotage.

Noin turned and walked back towards SMS 22's hangar, Forsythe in tow. "You wanted to vape it, didn't you?" Forsythe said.

"Zero Systems mess people up. That particular suit and that particular Zero System deranged someone so badly the world almost ended..." Noin trailed off. "If I could destroy Epyon more thoroughly than tossing it into the sun, I would. I'll have to settle for letting Duo disconnect every single wire. "

"Nothing personal about it." An inimitable deadpan voice. Noin turned sharply on one heel.

Heero Yuy's smirk was _almost_ human, but flashed across his face fast enough to leave Noin questioning if she'd really seen it. "You seem surprised to see so many of the unquiet dead, Noin." Yuy wasn't wearing a Preventer uniform, and looked surprisingly normal in slacks and a business jacket. His visitor ID badge identified him as also a Preventer but a part of Special Branch, the plainclothes intelligence and counterinsurgency side of the agency.

"There's plenty personal about it." Noin replied. "But I would still want Epyon reduced to free atoms even if it wasn't personal."

"It would be hard for it not to be personal." Yuy replied. "Your parents." Noin did not reply. Her expression, to her credit, did not change. But that cut close for her. It was possibly the greatest shame of her life that with Zechs, back to her, trying to_ kill her family_, she hadn't even thought to raise a weapon. Maybe she would have stuck a gun in her mouth and pulled the trigger, if she'd shot Epyon in the back and killed Zechs. But she should have at least _thought_ about doing it.

And sometimes when Noin woke from her nightmares late at night, she would admit that even if it would have destroyed her she ought to have shot Epyon in the back. She was a soldier. She had admitted her life did not necessarily count by becoming one. Certainly not in comparison to the billions Zechs was trying to kill.

Yuy glanced towards the hanger housing Epyon. "You have Duo back there?"

"Yes." Noin replied. "I gave him the job of making sure it stays dead."

"I was supposed to give instructions on how to fully disable the Zero System. Duo will know how. Dealing with Epyon again for me is unnecessary." Yuy gestured towards the hanger Noin had been moving towards. "I am also here for the inevitable press conference, as the more acceptable of the experts on the Zero System."

"He," it had been a he, and the impact with the water had indeed killed them, "was so target fixated that I can't believe he was using a Zero System. My wing managed to nearly kill him by blindsiding him." Noin gestured to Forsythe.

"It is quite possible." Yuy replied. "The Zero System does not fix bad habits." His speaking paused a moment while they silently walking on. "Epyon could have recognized you and encouraged him as well. It has tried to kill you before and the system is just smart enough to remember such things."

"You're suggesting it's an AI. A proper one." Forsythe put in. Not intimidated by the former pilot of Wing Zero, apparently.

"The Zero System is an expert system, not an artificial intelligence. It creates solutions and then puts pressure on the pilot to execute them. If the pilot does not, the pressure increases. Spare an enemy it believes you should have killed, and it will be more difficult next time." Yuy replied.

Forsythe shook her head. "That's stupid. It ignores so many possible concerns at the ground and strategic levels. Even just trying to force the pilot is the act of a cretin, considering the feedback problems."

"Agreed." Yuy's voice had some humor in it. His eyes slid towards Noin. "Your solution was innovative. Forcing the suit into a maneuver the pilot could not take." There was also some admiration there.

Heero Yuy's approval made Noin feel vaguely...unclean.

* * *

The inevitable press conference was, in fact, happening. Most of it had already happened, in fact. Noin had to give a speech. She'd kept it short, and she'd had it written by someone else, who she half-expected to be in attendance though she hadn't seen them yet. She wasn't much of a speechwriter, and though she had a gift for extemporizing she doubted that Director Une would be very happy if she did.

It was disconcerting to be the one on podium, accepting the medal, getting the applause. Being the hero. She did enjoy it, she would have been less than human not to enjoy it at least a little bit. But some part of Noin insisted this is was what _Zechs_ did. She wasn't Zechs. Noin was glad to escape, but the press did follow her, and she'd been instructed to answer at least two questions.

"Does the fact Epyon was piloted by your fiancee Zechs Merquise have anything to do with this situation?" That was a very dumb question in Noin's opinion, but she'd fielded a lot of dumb questions with grace in her life, having been a flight instructor.

"No." Noin replied. "Though I'm glad to see the Gundam Eypon finally laid to rest for good. The Zero System produced far too many shattered lives and broken dreams to allow someone to run around loose with one."

"Do you agree with the plan for Epyon?"

"It is the only remaining Gundam that's even marginally intact. Some sort of monument to both the horrors and the wonders they accomplished is needed, and while I might have preferred Wing Zero I really don't have that option. This will do. No more questions." Noin replied. A half-dozen Preventer infantry in regular dress rather than the combat outfit were at the side of the regular entrance to the hanger/living complex, keeping a few determined press types out. It was kind of odd to be using the normal door, or for that matter to see the squadron hanger door fully shut where normally it was cracked a meter or so for ventilation purposes. Noin made her way towards the squadron mess, she hadn't been able to grab a bite to eat all day between debriefings, getting ready for the big press conference, and then actually having the conference.

Her father was here, having somehow gotten in via the hanger, and was intercepted by Richard Dyer further up the hall. Her father also wore the visitor ID badge, with a "escort for sensitive areas only" tag that was rarely given to civilians and usually reserved for outside military like the colonial militias and defense forces.

"Your High-" Dyer began.

"Your Grace will do. The family hasn't used the Prince of Savoy title since AC Seventy-Five." Noin's father replied.

Dyer showed the barest hint of a smile. "You still retain it. And though she would be quite cross if I used it, it prevents confusion with your daughter, Your Highness." The Duke raised an eyebrow at him. Noin knew he wouldn't have expected an American to know the subsidiary titles of the family. "Your daughter," he added, gesturing to Noin, and then fading back into the hanger. Forsythe glanced to Noin and then also headed off into the hanger.

"The spirit of Emanuele Filiberto smiles on you." Noin's father smiled and gestured expansively; he was speaking Italian so that they would have a modicum of privacy. "It is good to see the family lauded for its feats once more, even if not in the way you would desire, Lucrezia." There were very few people who could use Lucrezia Noin's first name to her face without rebuke. Her father was one of them.

"It's not quite the Victorious Third, father," Noin said, with a genuinely pleased smile. She also switched to her native language, leading him to the mess area and a seat at one of the tables. "I was unaware anyone in my unit knew I had a title beyond my old OZ one."

"They are not fools, my dear. You actually seem to enjoy having them around." Noin was not known as a child or as an instructor for having suffered fools gladly. "The intelligent and the curious, or merely astute, will discover things they are not told."

Noin blushed faintly. "Are you trying to embarrass me in front of my unit?" she asked, somewhat accusatory.

Her father raised his hands in a gesture of peace. "Never. I was once a soldier too."

"A sailor, now." Noin smiled. "They are...often amazing, compared to the cadets I once trained."

Her father shook his head. "I knew men with eyes like your Lieutenant, when the Alliance was young. Commanded them. But they were older men. It surprises me to see them on one so young."

"He served the Alliance as well, as did his family...but now few of them are left," Noin's tone was softer as she explained. "We have made our peace."

Her father tilted his head and glanced back towards the door and the hanger. "A better man than those I knew, then. Your companion wore Alliance decorations as well, and I believe I noted some White Fang iconography. Quite diverse."

"You haven't met Duo yet." Noin observed with a grimace. "I have about a dozen ethnicities and five different original services represented." Duo actually entered the room, chatting surprisingly amicably with Heero. He glanced at Noin, and she gave him a nod, indicating he was okay to come in, but still the two of them sat farther away.

"Maxwell? I have some knowledge of him. I suspect most of the human race does." Her father was amused. "I am thankful you received him rather than Yuy."

"I gather Yuy will die before he pilots a mobile suit again." Noin gestured to him. "There is another, but somehow no one seems to know-"

"Barton. He leads a squadron himself. Serpents, I believe." Her father said. "Ironic. It has been claimed he is not the real Trowa Barton, but he is real enough to contest succession and wills. Given the family's misdeeds, I think many of our peers would rather he _become_ the real Trowa Barton. Inject some character into the family." Noin had not always been good at juggling the various people she was supposed to be, which was both a strength at times and a curse, so it took her a few moments to realize that "our peers" was other nobility rather than peers to any of the people she was supposed to be day to day: Lucrezia Noin, woman; Lucrezia Noin, combat pilot; Lucrezia Noin, squadron leader. Lucrezia Noin, Italian nobility, wasn't someone she had to be very often and tended to be forgotten at times.

"I would not think he would have wanted to do that." Noin remembered the quiet, serious young man who had gone by Trowa Barton. He had seemed older, more mature, than the others, and also somehow less...driven? Wrong word. It was not a lack of drive, but a lack of desire or expectation for reward.

"Perhaps not for himself. But to keep that family from trying to take over the Earth Sphere again? The greater good is a powerful incentive for those who seek no accolades," her father said, with a smile. Noin wondered if he had been one of the people who had prevailed on Trowa to help there. In the post-Eve Wars world, the European power structure had been gutted; the battles between the Alliance and OZ over what was their homeland had been fierce and done much damage, and to have been a supporter of Romefeller was to be an outcast. People like her father had more power today than they had in generations. "You'll be going to space soon, you know."

"I don't have a full unit yet, much less a properly trained one." Noin objected.

"Needs must. Your other pilots are already on the way, I expect. From a friend of a friend of the Director, you'll be spaceside before the end of the month, and bound back to Mars soon after. Feuds among the Rock Movers make everyone nervous." The Asteroid Belt Retrieval Corporation, or Rock Movers, was the second-largest company in the Solar System. It was a distant second compared to the Winner Corporation, but while the Winners would get noticed if they tried to move a 25,000 ton chunk of rock, that was quite literally the ABRC's job. They were the only power in the Solar System that could still devastate a planet or destroy a colony without much effort. _And since Zechs destroyed Barge, and nobody wants to rebuild it, the main system that the Alliance and OZ counted on to neutralize a large asteroid is gone, so if you boost it long enough then no realistic intercept is possible. And the only colony outside the Earth Sphere that could defend itself against even a slow rock is Mars. _When corporate infighting broke out, or the workers got angry with ABRC, then the government paid attention.

Noin sighed. She was too used to how militaries worked to grimace. The requirements of the service. "I had hoped for an assignment closer to Earth."

"But your name carries too much weight, especially now, not to be dispatched to deal with possible crises." Her father gestured to her hand. "You still wear his ring, child." Her parents had never really approved of Zechs, but nor had they hated him. "What will you do?"

"I don't know." Suddenly the food she'd originally been looking for seemed a lot less interesting.


End file.
